


You're The Only Friend I Need

by trueamericanwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, Best Friends, Drunk Driving, Fluff, Gen, POV Scott, Physical Abuse, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sleepovers, Verbal Abuse, growing frienship, mama mccall passed away in this fic and isnt in it sorry, scott and stiles are neighbors, teacher!Derek, very minor homophobia in dialogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1231222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trueamericanwolf/pseuds/trueamericanwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Stiles meet in kindergarten and become best friends. Also the one where Scott's mom passed away and his dad is abusive and Stiles is there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. big boys don't cry

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so first off, hello, this is gonna be a sad fic. But the sadness is gonna be equally dispersed with cuteness. I got the title from the Lorde song, and here's a link to it if you wanna give it a listen before reading. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4OEsqBmeh0. 
> 
> I'm thinking this is gonna be a long fic, so sit back and enjoy, and possibly cry because it does deal with some pretty heavy topics, not gonna lie. I tried to make it as real as possible based on real life experiences and also I didn't want to make it either over the top or just make it not a big deal, the abuse aspect, so I tried to find a way to portray it in the most realistic manner. It is a triggering fic, so I'm just warning you now. Also I've never written a children AU so I hope I'm able to portray how kids act and talk and stuff.
> 
> Zoey edited it for me and is my cheerleader so I'm going to try my best to update this regularly. Hope you guys enjoy!

“Daddy, come on get up,” Scott says, shaking his dad’s broad shoulders. “Dad, it’s my first day of kindergarten, we have to get ready.”

Rafael’s lying on his stomach, face smashed into his pillow, and he isn’t budging. Scott shakes he him as hard as he can, but there’s only so much he can do when his dad is so tall that Scott has to bend his head all the way back just to see up his nose.

Scott tries a few more times, shaking and calling out _Daddy?_ but it’s no use, he’s knocked out cold. Sure, Scott wishes his dad would wake up just as easy as his mom used to, but she’s gone and he’s stuck with a giant who is nearly impossible to wake up. Although, Scott has realized as time goes on that his dad only gets to be this way after he drinks his “adult drink.” Scott doesn’t know what the adult drink does exactly, but it sure makes his dad act a lot differently. Meaner.

“Dad?” Scott says, but it's more of a whisper, definitely not loud enough to wake him up.

His head droops down and he walks away, stopping and looking back just before he leaves the room, hoping just maybe his dad will be getting up, giving Scott a wink and telling him he was playing around and he knows it’s Scott’s first day. Or telling Scott that he’ll drive him to school and give him a big hug as he walks into the unknown, but Scott only sees his dad’s legs hanging off the end of the bed as he snores loudly.

Scott goes down the hallway and stops by his mom’s picture; it’s been almost a year now since she passed away and Scott finds himself always looking at the picture of his parents on their wedding day, his mom’s mouth open wide with cake on her nose and his dad smiling, cake in his hands. A smile finds its way onto Scott’s round little face and he skips into his room, taking the clothes that he already picked out last night, and changing out of his spider-man pajamas into a blue polo and tan knee high shorts.

His light up velcro Spider-Man shoes are next to his bed and he slips those on, stomping his feet to make sure they still work. Despite the disappointment of his dad not waking up in time to take him to school, the flashing lights that go all the way across the shoes makes him smile a big, toothy grin. Awesome.

Scott goes into the bathroom, steps on the stool, and grabs his tooth brush, making sure to brush all the teeth he has. He takes his dad’s mousse and runs it through his hair; he’s sure his dad won’t mind. It’s a big day.

Walking back into his room, he picks up his new backpack, and puts the straps over his shoulders. The backpack comes down to the back of his knees; he doesn’t know how to adjust it and was planning on asking his dad in the morning, but doesn’t look like that’ll happen.

“I’m going to school now, dad!” Scott yells, as he’s at the edge of the staircase. “Love you!”

He walks down the stairs, his hand on the railing, making sure to be safe. On the last step he jumps and watches the bottom of his shoes light up. Today’s gonna be awesome, that he’s sure of.

Scott reaches up and twists the door knob, opening up the door and walking outside. It’s warm and sunny and he closes the door behind him, strutting forward into the world. Each step he takes his backpack smacks the back of his knees; his hands are gripping the straps and he’s walking with determination.

The school’s only two blocks away, and Scott knows this because he watches it pass by him in the car when him and his dad go to the grocery store. Just a straight away down the road, and make a right after the second block. Easy as one, two, three.

The cars zip by him as he walks down the sidewalk, feeling the air rush by him when a big truck zooms by. He sees a kid in front of him, holding onto his dad’s hand as they walk. The kid has a spiderman backpack. Scott wants to run up and ask him if he loves Spider-Man, but he’s a little too far ahead and Scott’s already walking as fast as he can; the backpack’s weighing him down.

Scott finally gets to school, after coming face to face with a spider dangling off a tree, and running away from it. He almost had to grab his inhaler out of the side pocket on his backpack, but luckily he caught his breath quick enough. Spider-Man is cool, spiders, not so much.

Outside of his soon to be first classroom, there’s a lot of kids, all quietly standing next to their parent’s sides, and he feels left out. Sure, his dad probably would have just said bye and left, but it still would be nice to show up with him. Be able to show off to his soon to be classmates how big and strong of a dad he has.

He’ll settle for showing off his shoes instead, because who doesn’t love light up sneakers? He walks more into the crowd of kids and parents and his eyes narrow in on the cool Spider-Man backpack he saw from earlier. Spider-Man is jumping, his legs wide open in his signature pose, as a web shoots out of his wrist and straight up, like the top of the backpack is a building. That is the coolest thing Scott’s ever seen, and he really wants to go up and talk about Spider-Man, but his thought is cut off when a tall man with a beard walks out of the classroom and clears his throat.

“Hello parents of my soon to be pupils,” the man starts off, clapping his hands together and smiling. “My name is Mr. Hale and I will be your children’s tour guide as we go through the fun and basic learnings of kindergarten. From counting to learning different words, I will try my best to make this as fun as possible. I’m just out of college so this will be my first year teaching on my own and I’m hoping to hear feedback if possible, so I know if I’m doing the best I can to teach your children. Why don’t you guys come on in and I will give you the learning objectives along with my school number and email, that way you can contact me throughout the year.”

The parents and kids shuffle in and Scott finds himself in the back of the group, trying to peek over and see into the classroom, but it’s no use. He can hear Mr. Hale greeting everyone as they enter into the classroom and when it’s Scott’s turn Mr. Hale gives him a puzzled look and furrows his brow.

“Did your mom drop you off?” He asks, his white teeth shining down at Scott.

“My mom’s dead,” Scott says, and watches the smile fade away from Mr. Hale’s face. “My dad’s asleep so I walked.”

“Oh,” he says, “well come on in.”

Scott feels Mr. Hales hands pat his back as he walks into the classroom, which looks so awesome. There’s a whiteboard at the front of the classroom with the word “welcome” across the board in all different colors. The middle of the classroom is empty and there are desks going around it in a circle. Scott can see at the far end of the classroom there’s a sink and a door with a picture of a toilet on it; Scott giggles. On the wall next to the classroom door there are cubbies and Scott can see blank pieces of paper hanging from each one; he doesn’t know why but it’s school so maybe it’s be a lesson or something.

“Okay everyone,” Mr. Hale says from behind Scott, walking around him and going to the front of the classroom. “Today’s going to be an easy day for everyone. The hardest part is going to be in a minute when, parents, I’m sorry but you’re going to have to say bye to your kids just for a little while.”

Some of the kids start to cry and other’s just stare off blankly, probably examining the room just like Scott did. The kid with the cool backpack is still holding his dad’s hand, and Scott watches as his dad gets down on his knees and gives him a big hug. Scott wishes his dad was here to be able to give him a hug and wish him a great day, but he also knows his dad gets tired a lot lately and needs his rest.

Scott watches as the parents all hug their kids goodbye and some of them scream, some of them are calmer than the newscasters that his dad watches at night, but most of them are somewhere in between. Squeezing their parents tight and wiping their eyes as they have to say their goodbyes. Scott decides it’s a good thing his dad didn’t wake up, that way he didn’t have to be sad saying goodbye to Scott.

Scott watches the parents leave the room and smiles; his dad didn’t miss anything. He’d be sure to tell him about it when he gets home.

“Alright,” Mr. Hale says, walking over to one of the kids who is still crying. “It’s okay. You get to see your mom again in just a few hours, and just think of all the friends you’re going to make. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

After a few minutes of Mr. Hale personally going to every crying kid and making sure they’re okay, Scott finds that to be very nice of him, he walks back to the front of the classroom and smiles. His grin is so wide and his teeth are so straight that Scott wonders if when after he loses all his teeth, his smile will look that nice.

He can already feel his bottom front tooth is getting loose, and he can’t help but keep pushing at it with his tongue. It feels strange, his tooth moving just the slightest as his tongue presses against the back of it. It’s like a pressure that somehow feels awesome to him.

Scott sees the kid again, sitting by himself on the floor, pulling at the thread on the bright red rug in the middle of the classroom. Scott walks over to him, looking down at his shoes lighting up with each step, and stands awkwardly behind him. Sitting down right next to him, Scott turns and gives him the biggest smile he can do.

“Hi, I’m Scott,” he says, “do you like Spider-Man?”

“Yeah!” The kid says, smiling back at Scott. His head is buzzed down and he’s already missing a tooth, his front tooth to be exact, Scott’s awestruck. This kid is so cool. “Spider-Man’s the best! I’m Stiles.”

“That’s a funny name,” Scott says, pushing his tongue against the back of his tooth again. “My tooth’s loose, and its gonna be my first tooth to fall out.”

“I lost mine last week,” he says, putting his finger into the gap where his tooth should be. “The Tooth Fairy left me a whole dollar! It was so cool.”

“Alright guys,” Mr. Hale says, cutting off Scott before he can say anything back. “Let’s do a game.” The kids all clap excitedly at the thought of playing a game, and Scott finds himself bouncing in excitement also. “It’s called...the name game!”

Scott likes the game, they go around and say each name and try to remember the person before them. Stiles is before Scott so he for sure is going to win this game, although he knows there’s no winners, he kind of just wants to impress Mr. Hale.

“Stiles!” Scott blurts out once it’s his turn. Mr. Hale gives him a smile and Scott’s beaming. He feels Stiles poke his shoulder and he looks over; Stiles has his tongue sticking out of the gap where his missing tooth is and has his eyes crossed. Scott covers his mouth and starts giggling uncontrollably, Stiles joins along with him.

“Boys,” Mr. Hale says, raising his eyebrows at them.

“Sorry,” Scott says, biting his bottom lip and looking over to Stiles, whose face is red as a tomato.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, they play the name game a few more times and then get to pick their seats. Scott and Stiles sit right next to each other and have to keep from giggling the whole time. Scott figures out what the blank papers were over the cubbies, they are there for them to decorate with their names. Each one of the students gets their own cubby to put their backpack and things away; Scott and Stiles pick theirs right next to each other.

Before he knows it, Mr. Hale is telling them it’s about time to go home and when they walk outside into the quad, all the parents who were there in the morning are back. Most of the kids run to their parents and give them big hugs already telling them everything about the day, Scott looks around but doesn’t see his dad anywhere.

“Is your dad here?” Mr. Hale asks, walking up behind Scott and putting his hand on his shoulder.

“He parks on the street over,” Scott says, not wanting Mr. Hale to call his dad. “He told me to meet him there last night before putting me to bed.” Scott feels bad for lying to Mr. Hale, sure, but he doesn’t want to call his dad in case he’s still asleep. His dad can be cranky if he gets woken up to something that isn’t very important.

“Scott!” Stiles yells, and Scott can see him pulling his dad by his fingers over to Scott. “Dad, this is Scott, he’s my new friend.”

“Well nice to meet you, Scott,” Stiles’ dad says, squatting down and putting his hand out. Scott puts his hand out and shakes the best he can, but it’s kind of hard when your hand is only as big as the man’s three middle fingers. “Those are some cool shoes you have there.”

“Thanks!” Scott beams, jumping up so when he lands they light up for Stiles’ dad. “My dad let me get them so I’d have them for the first day of school.”

“See dad,” Stiles chimes in, “he loves Spider-Man too!”

“Stiles, we’re not gonna put fake spider webs all over your room and paint the walls to look like Spider-Man’s costume. End of discussion.”

“But dad,” Stiles whines, stomping his feet.

“Scott, it was nice to meet you,” Stiles’ dad says, “Stiles, come on. You can tell me all about your first day on the way home.”

Scott waves bye as Stiles walks away, hand in hand with his dad, and Scott can hear his voice fade out as he tells his dad all about the day. Scott hulls his backpack onto his back and starts to walk away from the classroom.

“Bye Mr. Hale!” He yells and turns back waving. “See you tomorrow!”

“Bye!” Mr. Hale says, waving back.

Scott walks to the front of the school where cars are parked and kids are jumping into the passenger seats, yapping away. Scott sees Stiles throw his backpack into a blue jeep and crawl into it; the jeep is pretty high up and Scott’s surprised Stiles is even to make it in, but he watches as Stiles flings his foot over the edge and pulls his body up.

Scott walks to the corner of the street and waits for the crossing guard to give him the okay to walk; he smiles at her as he walks across the street, feeling his back pack thwap into him with each step. Once he’s across the street he just has two more blocks to go before he can finally tell his dad all about his day, which he’s been so excited to do since he made a friend.

Scott’s turning the corner to his street when he sees the blue jeep that Stiles crawled into outside of the corner house. Scott pauses and furrows his brow, there’s no way that Stiles can live right next to him, but if he does, that means Scott and him can hang out outside of school! He wants to run up to the front door and bang on it and see if it really is Stiles’ house, but he decides he’ll just ask Stiles tomorrow in class. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time because he’s finally almost home and can finally tell his dad all about his day.

“Daddy!” Scott yells, as he swings open the front door rushing inside. “Daddy, I have so much to tell you!”

Scott throws his backpack down on the floor by the door and runs up the stairs, a smile plastered across his face. He skips down the hallway and goes into his dad’s room, thinking that maybe his dad is still asleep, but he’s not even in the room.

“Dad?” Scott says, looking around, checking the bathroom that is connected to his dad’s room. Nope, not there. “Dad!” He yells, and rushes down stairs and into the living room.

His dad is sitting on the recliner, his giant blue bathrobe draped over him, not tied, and only in his plaid boxers.

“Dad!” Scott shouts, rushing up and throwing his arms out for a hug. “I have so much to tell you!”

“Where the hell have you been?” His dad’s voice is quick and sharp, his face home to an angry expression. “I have been worried sick, and you just leave without so much as a fucking word?!”

“I’m sorry,” Scott says, his face sinking into his chest. “I tried to wake you up.”

“Well you obviously didn’t try hard enough. I woke up and had no idea where the hell you were, not to mention my head is killing me, and you just run in shouting like you did nothing wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Scott says, his voice low and his eyes already filling with tears. “I should have known not to leave without telling you, but it was my first day of school.”

“I don’t care! You don’t get to just leave the fucking house!” His dad picks up the small glass next to his recliner and takes a gulp of the “adult drink” that Scott has grown accustomed to. The smell of it along with the darkness of it.

“I won’t do it again, I promise.” Scott says, wiping his eyes, looking down at his feet, which aren’t lighting up because he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“You’re crying? Really?” His dad gets up and kneels down in front of him, gripping his jaw tightly. “Only babies cry, and since you’re now a big school boy, you don’t get to cry.”

Scott’s shaking and his wipes the tears away as fast as he can, nodding into his dad’s grip. His dad shoves his face away from him; Scott still doesn’t move, he stays still trying not to breathe in his dad’s vile breath and trying his hardest not to cry anymore.

“I won’t cry anymore,” Scott’s voice is shaking and so are his knees. “I promise.”

“Good,” his dad says, finishing off the drink and walking, with a slant into the kitchen to pour himself some more. “After your mom died I get…” his voice trails off and Scott doesn’t budge, not sure if his dad will get mad at him. “Come into the kitchen and tell your old man about your first day, Scotty.”

A rush of relief overcomes Scott and he bolts is fastest into the kitchen, sitting down at the kitchen table, which isn’t in the kitchen persay, but more towards the side, by the window to the side of his house. He pulls the chair out and hops into the brown wooden seat, waiting for his dad to sit down with him.

His dad sits down and away Scott goes, telling him all about his teacher and how he has a beard that would make even Billy Mays jealous, and about Stiles and how he’s already lost a tooth and Scott thinks he will also, soon. His dad rubs his temple every time Scott starts to get a little too excited and raise his voice, so he knows to quiet it down; he’s used to his dad having bad headaches a lot in the morning, he thinks he should go to a doctor but he doesn’t want to say that, in case his dad gets upset. His dad doesn’t like doctors.

“I think that’s enough story time for today,” his dad says, rubbing his temple again and going into the cabinet above the sink, pulling out some pills and taking them. “Go do homework or watch something on cable, just let me get my headache to go away and then I’ll treat you to McDonalds since you’re now a big kid.”

“Okay, awesome! You’re the best,” Scott says, giving his dad a quick hug on the leg and running up to his room to go play with his legos.

After trying his best to build a replica of his classroom, making the two lego people be him and Stiles, and the lego character with beard be Mr. Hale, he hears his dad yell from the bottom of the stairs that it’s time for McDonalds.

They drive down the street and Scott’s eyes are glued to the two story house at the corner with the jeep out front, hoping maybe he’ll see Stiles or Stiles’ dad, but no one’s outside. The car ride is quiet, his dad doesn’t put on the radio and he’s already told him all about his day, so there’s nothing to talk about, really.

They get to McDonalds and Scott gets his happy meal, and yeah he understands why it has that name, because with each bite of his hamburger, he gets a little more happy. Sadly though, he didn’t get the toy he wanted in the bag, and he already opened it so he can’t ask for a different one, so for now he’s stuck with the purple teletubby.

“Make sure you wake me up tomorrow,” his dad says on the ride back, “even if I’m snoring and asleep, you make sure you wake me up so I can take you to school. Don’t want your teacher thinking I’m a horrible father.”

“You definitely aren’t,” Scott smiles and looks out the window and the oncoming car’s headlights zip by like a flash of light. “And I’ll make sure.”

“Good,” his dad pats the top of his head and rustles his hair around, Scott laughs and ducks his head to dodge the attack of the hand, as him and his dad calls it. “So if that tooth anymore loose now that you’ve eaten a burger and fries?”

“Let’s see,” Scott says, opening his mouth wide and pushing the back of his tooth, making it move the slightest bit forward. “Looks like the Tooth Fairy’s gonna be visiting our house soon.”

They ride in silence again and when they get to their street, well Scott can’t help but dart his sight to the corner house, but the jeep is gone. Scott makes a note to look out his window when he gets home and see if maybe he’ll be able to spot the car coming back.

Scott and his dad go through their nightly routine, Scott tries his hardest to not take a bath and all his efforts are thwarted when his dad tells him he can’t have dessert without it. Scott, passing up on dessert? Not gonna happen.

He has a really awesome toy shark that he loves to play with in the bathtub; pretending he’s lost at sea, he makes the great white swim through the water and bite his toes. Scott laughs because the bottom of his feet are ticklish and he can’t help it, even if it’s a shark attacking him, he can’t help but giggle at the tingling funny feeling on the sole of his foot.

He unplugs the bottom of the bathtub and this is his favorite part of bath time, watching the soapy water swirl around the hole like a whirlpool, and the noise it makes as it is gulped down by the drain. He leaves his shark in the water as it drains and watches the sharks face get stuck in the hole, it always is funny to watch.

Scott brushes his teeth, making sure to brush extra hard on his front teeth so that his tooth can get a little bit looser. He slips on his Spider-Man pajamas and before he knows it, he’s yawning. First day of school is tiring for a five year old, not to mention it’s already eight, his bed time.

“Goodnight, son,” his dad says, flicking on his night light as he walks to the door. “Remember, wake me up.”

“I will,” Scott says, toasty under his comforter. “Love you!”

“Love you too,” his dad says, closing the door behind him.

Scott’s eyes get droopy and he’s about to fall asleep when he remembers the jeep; he quietly crawls out of bed and tiptoes over to his bedroom window, peeking through the blinks. He can see the house, it’s only two houses down on the opposite side of the street, and the jeep is already there.

“Shoot,” he says, pulling his fingers out from the blinds and walking back to his bed.

Tomorrow morning, first thing he’s going to do is ask Stiles if he lives on Lynwood Circle. He hopes Stiles says yes.


	2. the sting the tooth and the wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's second day of kindergarten is an eventful day full of hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so my original plan was to post a new chapter every sunday but since I finished chapter 2 already and Zoey edited it, I'm gonna post it now! Hope yall enjoy!

“Scotty, it’s time to get up,” Scott’s dad says, and Scott can feel his body being shook. He squints his eyes open, just enough to see his dad standing over his bed in his bathrobe, this time tied, and smiling down at Scott. “Come on, buddy, you gotta get ready for school.”

“What’s that smell?” Scott says, inhaling the wonderful aroma that is wafting into his nose.

“I made you breakfast, now get up.”

Scott doesn’t have to be told twice, he flings his comforter off of himself and is out of bed before his dad has time to move. Scott’s dad doesn’t always make breakfast but when he does, man it’s Scott’s favorite meal. The eggs, the bacon and the homemade pancakes that Scott loves to stack up and cut the middles out of, filling the hole with maple syrup until it’s overflowing like a volcano onto his plate. His dad’s the best cook he knows.

His grin is from ear to ear when he sits down at the table and sees two plates full of food, one for him and one for his dad. There’s a cup of orange juice next to his and next to his dad’s plate the mug Scott got him last year for Christmas that says “best dad.” Scott wants to be able to drink coffee in the morning just like his dad, but his dad has told him before that it’s not good for kids, so Scott looks forward to the day he can drink it with his dad.

“You woke me up today,” Scott says, taking a sip of his orange juice and smiling. “I was supposed to wake you up.”

“Well,” his dad says, cutting Scott’s food into bite size pieces for him. “I wanted to make up for missing out on your first day yesterday. So I made sure to set my alarm early, that way I could make you a nice big breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Scott grabs his fork and starts stabbing into the eggs, piling on as much onto his fork as possible, before opening his mouth wide and devouring it. He makes sure to keep his mouth closed while he chews because he knows that smacking his mouth is rude, and he definitely doesn’t want to be rude to his dad after he made him this awesome breakfast. “I’m excited for you to meet Mr. Hale, he’s really cool.”

Scott finishes his food belches, covering his mouth immediately afterwards. His dad’s eyebrow raises and then he gives his son a wink; Scott giggles and his dad grabs his plate, bringing it into the kitchen to do the dishes while Scott goes to get ready. His first day of school outfit was picked out, but he didn’t even think of picking out his second day outfit and he doesn’t know what to choose.

He slides his closet door to the side and looks up at all the shirts hanging; he goes one bye one until he sees his favorite shirt he owns, his Spider-Man shirt, where he’s fighting against The Green Goblin. Stiles is going to think the shirt is so cool! Scott yanks it down from the hanger and grabs a pair of jean shorts; second day outfit is a success.

“Time to go, Scotty!” His dad calls, and Scott finishes brushing his teeth, grabs his backpack and runs downstairs where his dad is standing by the front door. He isn’t wearing the robe anymore, but has on a button up white shirt and black slacks.

“Are we gonna walk?” Scott asks, as they go out the front door and his dad locks it behind them. It’s sunny out, and that’s expected since it’s the first week of September; autumn hasn’t begun to slither it’s cold grips onto Beacon Hills yet.

“Nah,” his dad walks in front of him and presses the button on his keys, making his black truck beep. “I have some errands to run after so we’re going to drive.”

“Okay,” Scott says and waits for his dad to come around and give him a boost into the truck. It’s too tall for Scott to even crawl into, so his dad lifts him up and plops him down on the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt over Scott and clicking it in place.

“Watch your feet,” his dad says, closing the door behind him and going around to the driver side. The ride over is only a minute, and Scott is bouncing with excitement for his dad to meet Mr. Hale and to ask Stiles if he lives by him.

They park in the student drop off lane and Scott waits for his dad to lift him out of the truck; he smiles proudly as him and his dad walk hand in hand up to the quad outside of his classroom. The parents and kids from yesterday are back and some are still crying, which Scott is glad he’s not one of them; he remembers what his dad had said about big boys not crying. Scott looks around and tries to spot Stiles in the crowed but doesn’t see him, instead he sees Mr. Hale standing by the door and Scott can’t help but drag his dad by his index finger over to his teacher.

“Mr. Hale!” Scott says excitedly, “this is my dad.”

Mr. Hale smiles and puts his hand out, Rafael shakes his hand and they start talking, but Scott stops listening when he sees Stiles walk into the quad with his dad. Scott tells his dad he’ll be right back and runs straight towards Stiles, who gives him a wave as he’s running.

“Stiles! Stiles!” Scott shouts, and comes to a halt right in front of him and his dad. “Do you live on Lynwood?” He’s out of breath and puts his hands on his knees, taking in the biggest breath he can manage before looking back up to Stiles and his father.

“Yeah!” Stiles says, patting Scott on the back, and Scott’s grin widens and he claps his hands excitedly.

“I do too!”

Scott feels someone’s grip on his shoulder and he turns around, and has to look up basically into the sky to see his dad’s face over him. His dad’s hand is covering his shoulder and almost half his chest because his hands are so gigantic.

“Scott,” his dad says, smiling to Stiles and his father. “I have to go, you be good okay.”

His dad rustles his hair and nods to Stiles’ dad who nods back; they didn’t even say hi or talk to each other at all, but Scott is too happy that Stiles is his neighbour to really pay much attention to the details. His dad does one last wave as he walks out of the quad and Scott is beaming.

“So does that mean we get to hang out and play all the time?” Stiles asks, showing off his missing tooth through his grin.

“I have a bunch of army men we can play with! And we can build my legos together, it’s gonna be the best!”

“Alright you guys,” Stiles’ dad chimes in, smiling down at them. “I gotta go to work, Stiles, Scott, hope you two have a great day. Love you, champ.” Giving Stiles a hug, he leaves and Scott and Stiles start planning the play dates they’re going to be able to have.

Mr. Hale calls them into the classroom right as the bell for class to start rings; Scott and Stiles sit down next to each other on the rug, criss cross applesauce, as Mr. Hale had taught them the day before. There are letters running along the top of the wall in the room that Scott notices, and he knows most of them thanks to the letter of the day from Sesame Street, but he doesn’t get why some of them are much bigger than other ones, and why there’s a dashed line going through the middle. One more thing he’s looking forward to learning in class.

Stiles fidgets a lot next to Scott and pulls at the threads on the rug, making a small pile of fabric that he’s placing on his knee. Scott watches the pile get taller and taller until Stiles takes in a deep breath and blows them off his knee; Scott watches one of the threads spiral into the air and float away, falling back down in a girl’s reddish hair in front of them, basically blending into her hair. Scott covers his mouth and tries his best not to have a giggling fit, but the fact that the girl doesn’t know that a red piece of fabric is intertwined in her hair makes Scott laugh, Stiles too.

Naptime can’t come soon enough as Scott and Stiles go off to the corner of the room to lie down; they don’t actually fall asleep, or at least Scott doesn’t. Instead, he nudges Stiles in the leg with his leg and closes his eyes, acting like he didn’t do it on purpose. Since his eyes are closed he’s not sure if Stiles looks over at him to see if he did it on purpose, but the not knowing is part of the fun. He does it on more time and this time, Stiles nudges him back.

“Stiles,” Scott whispers, keeping his eyes closed.

“Yeah?” Stiles says.

“Let’s eat lunch together.”

“Okay.”

Scott hears Mr. Hale’s seat move back on the tile floor under his desk and he shuts his eyes as tight as he can, faking sleep. He can hear Mr. Hale’s foot steps as he walks around the room, probably making sure everyone’s asleep. Scott makes sure not to even peek out and see because he can’t risk getting in trouble for not napping on his second day of school.

“Alright guys,” Mr. Hale says, his voice soft and mellow as it interrupts the silence in the room. “Naptime is over. We have five minutes until lunch time so go get your lunches out of your cubbies if you brought them, that way we can go straight outside and to the benches to eat.”

No one has their name cards decorated for their cubbies yet because none of them know how to write all that well. Mr. Hale told them that by next week he will have them being able to write their names, and Scott’s looking forward to that. Plus Mr. Hale told them that the day they get to make their name tags, they’ll have the whole day to decorate and make it as cool and colorful as they want. Scott’s for sure going to make his have a lot of red and a lot of blue all over it.

Scott pulls out his brown paper bag that his dad made his lunch in and sees Stiles pull out a blue lunch pail, which zips up and has a holder on the side for his drink. Scott wishes he had a cool lunch pail like Stiles, but his dad said it’d be better for them financially, whatever that means, to go with brown bags for now.

The bell rings and the kids run outside and sit at the benches, opening up their food and starting to eat. Scott and Stiles sit at the end of the bench, sitting across from each other. Scott watches Stiles unzip his lunch pail and pull out a sandwich, which is in a container that is shaped like a dinosaur, how cool! Then Stiles puts a twinkie on the wooden table, which really needs to be fixed up because someone is bound to get a splinter.

“You have good stuff for lunch,” Scott says, pulling his pb&j sandwich out of his crinkled brown bag, along with a zip lock baggy of goldfish and a capri sun.

“My mom makes it all,” Stiles says, taking a bite of his sandwich, which Scott can see has bologna and cheese. “She stays home all day.”

“So does my dad,” Scott says, “my mom used to, but she died.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So if your dad stays at home, who works?”

“He says he has un-in-ployment?” Scott says, shrugging his shoulders. “He gets paid to take care of me.”

“That’s so cool!”

Scott never really thought of it that way but, yeah it is pretty cool. His dad gets to stay home all day, watch whatever he wants, and be with Scott all the time and get money for it. Hopefully, he can be able to do that when he’s older; that way he can always hang out with his dad.

Stiles gives Scott half of his twinkie and Scott shares his goldfish with him; there’s a playground at the end of the quad, next to the benches and they decide to go play in the sandbox. Sitting down in the sand, Scott watches Stiles pick up a pile of sand and let it fall down in between the slits of his small fingers; it looks cool the way it makes a small hill by their feet.

Scott suddenly feels a sharp pain on his calf and he lets out a shriek as a burning heat of pain intensifies. Scott bolts up and starts to cry, loud and full of pain; Stiles shoots up and Scott can feel Stiles’ hand on his shoulder asking him if he’s alright. Scott can’t stop crying, the tears are running down his face and the pain is still throbbing; when he looks down he can see a bee on the top of the sand, squirming around.

“Scott, are you okay?” Mr. Hale comes rushing over, lifting Scott up out of the sandbox and sitting him onto the lunch bench. Scott points down to his leg where the pain is coming from and is trying his best to stop crying; big boys don’t cry, Scott. “Come on, let’s go into the classroom and I can pull the stinger out.”

“Stinger?” Stiles says, and Scott can see his eyes widening, making Scott suddenly feel a rush of fear take over.

“A bee stung him,” Mr. Hale says, lifting Scott up and holding him in his arms. “We just gotta take the stinger out and he’ll be good as new.”

“Can Stiles come?” Scott asks, wiping his eyes and sniffling into Mr. Hale’s shoulder.

Mr. Hale nods and Stiles follows behind, Scott can see so much more from this height; he can see over the fence of the quad and to the older kids at recess who are hitting a ball against a big blue wall in the middle of the playground, while other bigger kids are running around on the field, kicking a soccer ball. And Scott is crying on his second day of school, in his teachers arms, how embarrassing.

They go into the classroom and Mr. Hale sits Scott down on the white counter next to the sink and opens up the cabinet above Scott’s head, pulling out a white box with a red cross on it. Mr. Hale opens up the box and pulls out a band aid, turning to Scott and flashing him a smile.

“Okay, Scott,” he says, “the worst is over. You survived the sting, now we just have to pull it out and put a band aid on it.”

“Okay,” Scott says, not wanting to watch Mr. Hale pull the stinger out.

“Scott,” Stiles says, “look over here.”

Scott turns and looks at Stiles who, has his tongue stuck out, his fingers put behind his ears so that they stick outward and look funny, and his eyes are both pointing towards his nose. Scott starts to laugh and Stiles moves his head around, making weird growling noise.

“Alright, all done,” Mr. Hale says, putting the band aid on Scott’s leg. Scott looks away from Stiles and down at his leg, not even knowing that Mr. Hale had already done it. “Thanks for the help, Stiles.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Hale,” Stiles says, sticking his hand out for a high five, and Mr. Hale gives him one.

“Sorry I cried,” Scott says, scooting to the edge of the sink and hopping down onto the floor, seeing the lights from his shoes flash.

“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Hale says, patting Scott’s shoulders. “You were so brave. Was that your first bee sting?”

“Yeah,” Scott sniffles, “it hurt a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” Mr. Hale says, leaning in towards Scott and Stiles. “I’m gonna tell you guys a secret that you can’t tell anyone.” Scott nods along with Stiles. “I got stung by a bee for the first time in sixth grade and found out I was allergic. My face got so swollen I looked a balloon.”

Scott and Stiles start to laugh and Mr. Hale takes his hands and makes them mime his head getting bigger and bigger until he makes a popping noise and flails his hands into the air. Scott doesn’t even feel the sting anymore and is happy that his dad didn’t see him cry about it. He’s going to make sure to leave out that part when he tells his dad about his first bee sting.

The bell rings and Mr. Hale tells the boys to take their seats while he goes out and gets the rest of the students. Scott and Stiles sit down next to each other and Scott sticks his leg out to the side, looking at the band aid on his leg; it’s a spongebob bandaid.

“How do you make that funny face?” Scott asks, putting his leg down under and turning to Stiles. “I want to see if I can do it.” Scott puts his hands behind his ears and sticks his tongue out, looking at Stiles who covers his mouth, shaking from giggling.

“Your ears look like Shrek’s!” Stiles says, sticking his hands behind his ears, doing the same thing. “Do mine look like Shrek?”

Scott nods and they stop making faces at each other once the rest of the class starts walking in; Scott watching the kids look over towards his leg as they walk in. The red haired girl walks into the class and is wearing a blue sundress; she walks up and sits down at the desk next to Scott, turning and smiling at him; he smiles back.

Scott feels a poke at his arm and he turns to look at Stiles who is pointing to the girl’s hair, his mouth in the shape of an o. Scott grins and doesn’t tell her about the string in her hair, it’s funnier that she doesn't know.

Class goes by rather fast, or as fast as it can go when all you can do is focus on the bandaid on your leg and if underneath it there’s some gross bleeding hole, but no Scott’s not thinking about that at all.

When the final bell rings and they all walk outside, Scott sees his dad in the back of the crowd, because his dad towers over all the other parents. Scott runs over to him and throws his arms around his dad’s right leg, squeezing tightly.

“I got stung by a bee, dad,” Scott says, looking up at his dad’s face.

Scott’s dad lifts him up into his arms, “are you okay?” he asks. Scott nods, and his dad gives him a kiss on the forehead. “Good. Let’s go home, your grandma wants us to call her so you can tell her all about school.”

“Okay!” Scott turns around and waves to Stiles. “Bye, Stiles!”

Stiles waves back at him and so does Stiles’ father, who Scott notices is in a police uniform. Stiles’ dad is a policeman? That means Stiles is always going to be safe and Scott’s always wanted to be a policeman when he’s older; coolest job ever. Saving people and making sure the bad guys don’t hurt anyone else, basically a superhero in Scott’s book.

They pull into their driveway and Scott waits for his dad to help him out of the car; he’s looking forward to getting a little taller and being able to do it himself. When he walks around the bed of the truck he can see Stiles getting out of the jeep two houses down and he’s overcome with excitement.

“Stiles!” Scott shouts, jumping up and down, waving his hands as high as he can. He can see Stiles’ head turn to the side and he shouts his name again, this time Stiles sees him and waves back. “Dad! That’s my friend from class! He lives right by us, isn’t that awesome?”

“Yeah, that’s really cool, Scotty,” he says, putting his finger out as he picks up the phone. “Hey ma, yeah I’m good, just getting in from picking up Scott from school.”

Scott follows his dad into the house, turning back one more time to wave at Stiles, who is waving back at him. Before he even gets into the house his dad hands him the phone, telling him it’s his grandma.

“Hi, Nana,” Scott says, holding the phone up to his ear with both his hands.

“Aye, my little Scotty, how’s my big boy doing?” She says, and Scott beams as he hears her voice, even though she can’t see.

“I’m good. I started kindergarten yesterday and it’s a lot of fun. My teacher’s super nice and has a really cool beard and I made friends with Stiles and he likes Spider-Man too and he lives on the same block as us. His dad is a police officer and, oh, Nana, I got stung by my first bee today. It hurt a lot, but my teacher took the stinger out and put a bandaid on it.”

“Oh no, are you okay? I wish I could be there to give you a big hug and a kiss.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I didn’t cry,” he says, looking over at his dad and smiling, knowing his dad will be proud of that fact. “Stiles made funny faces at me to make me laugh and I didn’t even feel Mr. Hale pull the stinger out. It was cool.”

“Well I’m glad you’re okay. I don’t want my only grandson getting hurt now that he’s all grown up and at school.”

“I won’t, Nana,” Scott laughs, seeing his dad gesture for the phone. “Well my dad wants to talk to you now, I love you!”

He hands the phone back to his dad and drags his backpack with him into the living room, sitting on the couch, and opening it up and pulling out his school folder. It’s a blue folder with Beacon Hills Elementary School on the cover accompanied by their mascot, a wolf. Around the wolf there are stars, each with a word, that Scott can’t read but he heard Mr. Hale say a few like integrity and hard work.

Scott pulls out his homework assignment and a yellow number two pencil, because Mr. Hale made sure they knew on the first day what kind of pencil they would need. Mr. Hale gave them a blank piece of paper and the assignment was to draw their family, but now that Scott is looking down at the paper he isn’t sure how to draw his mom into it.

He decides he’ll simply start with himself and work his way from there. Scott makes a circle, and it isn’t perfectly round but that’s okay, he’s trying his best and that’s all Mr. Hale says he wants from them. Of course, he has to make a big smile on his face because why would he draw himself any other way but happy when he’s with his family? Next his shirt, which ends up being a square with stick arms coming out; he adds on shorts and stick legs, perfect.

Next his dad, which he makes his dad’s head at the top of the paper since he’s so tall, then he makes him have a very long shirt and pants so that his body takes up the whole paper. He also makes his dad smiling, but adds in a cup in his dad’s hand, since most of the time he has an adult drink in his hands. So far so good.

Scott bites on the end of his pencil, hitting the metal part around his eraser and feeling his loose tooth wiggle underneath it, so he stops; he doesn’t want to lose his tooth while trying to finish his homework assignment.

Next comes the hard part, his mom. He isn’t sure how to draw her, well obviously she’s going to be in a dress because she’s a girl, but he doesn’t know where to put her exactly. Furrowing his brow, he chews on his bottom lip, pensively staring at the paper.

Bingo.

He starts scribbling away, making puffy clouds in the sky and adds his mom standing on top of one, a triangle dress underneath her smiling face. She’s in heaven, so that is the best way to draw her of course. Scott finishes and looks down at his homework assignment, smiling.

“Ma, I’m fine,” he hears his dad saying from the kitchen, and he turns around from the couch and looks back. His dad is pouring himself a drink and holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder. “I promise you, I’m good. Alright, alright, I’ll talk to you later. Love you too.”

Scott watches his dad take a swig of the drink, scrunching his face together after gulping it down. His dad always makes a grossed out face after drinking his adult drink, and he isn’t sure why, but it must taste good if he keeps drinking it everyday. His dad pours more, filling up half the small cup, and taking another swig. Another thing he’ll never understand, why does he always take it all at once and not drink it out of a regular sized cup?

“Hey dad,” Scott says, lifting his paper above his head as high as he can. “Want to look at my homework? I had to draw my family.”

“Let me see,” his dad says, walking over with his glass, already refilled. Sitting down next to Scott, his dad takes the paper and looks it over. “Is that mom in heaven?” he asks, downing the rest of his drink.

“Yeah,” Scott says, “and there you are. I tried to make you as tall as possible and of course I added in your adult drink since you’re always drinking it.” Scott smiles at his dad and points his finger to the paper. “There I am, smiling next to you.”

“I see that,” his dad says, placing his glass down on the carpet next to his feet. “I don’t like that you made me have the adult drink, Scott.”

“Why? I thought it would be good to add in since you’re always drinking it.”

Scott watches his dad put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and shake his head; Scott isn’t really sure why he’s making that face.

“I’m not always drinking.”

“Daddy,” Scott says, grinning at him. “Yes you are. It’s okay though, it’s an adult drink and you’re an adult.”

“Scott, you can’t turn this in.” His dad takes the paper and his hand turns into fist, crumpling half the paper.

“Daddy!” Scott shouts, reaching for the paper. “That’s my homework, you can’t crinkle it.”

“You’re not turning this in!” His dad’s voice rising in tone. “I’m not gonna have you teacher think I’m a fucking drunk because my son doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Scott says, feeling his eyes getting watery and trying his hardest not to cry. “I’ll erase the cup! Just please don't crinkle it anymore!”

“Damn right you’re gonna erase it,” his dad tosses the paper back to him roughly. “Making me look like a fucking shitty dad. First going to school by yourself without me and now drawing me with a fucking drink in my hand.”

Scott sinks further into the couch and starts to erase the cup he drew; eraser shedding covering his paper as he tries his hardest to make it look like he never drew it in the first place. His dad stands up and goes back into the kitchen, still talking about how Scott’s going to make his teacher get the wrong impression about his dad and how maybe he wants people to think he has a horrible dad.

“You’re not a horrible dad,” Scott says to himself, wiping his eyes quickly.

He can hear his dad smack the glass down on the kitchen counter as he unscrews the top of the drink, pouring more into the cup. Scott doesn’t move a muscle, feeling his body fit in with the couch as he sinks in on himself, listening to his dad rambling on in the kitchen.

“Go up to your room, Scott,” his dad says, still standing in the kitchen, his arms leaning on the counter with his head down.

“But what about dinner?”

“I said go to your fucking room!”

Scott cowers at how loud his dad’s voice is and grabs his backpack, running as fast as he can out of the living room. He drops his backpack at the bottom of the stairs and starts running up them when he slips and hits his shin against the hard wooden step, causing himself to fall face first and hit his mouth on the step.

Scott lets out a wail and pulls himself up onto the middle step, placing his hands to his mouth and feeling something warm and wet. Blood. He can taste it, like metal and can feel something hard on his tongue, he spits something into his hand and realizes that it’s his loose tooth, all covered in blood.

Scott’s shin is sending sparks of pain through his leg and his mouth is on fire and all he can do is scream out in pain as tears and snot cover his already bloody face.

Scott can see Rafael, through his blurry crying vision, come zipping out of the living room, his eyes wide as saucers as he rushes to Scott. His dad’s arm are around him and holding him tight, asking him if he’s alright, checking on Scott’s face to make sure he’s not seriously injured.

“Scotty,” his dad says, swinging him into his arms and carrying him to the bathroom. “Are you okay? Oh, God, there’s so much blood. What did you hit?” His dad sounds frantic as he sits Scott on the toilet, grabbing the hand towel and wiping Scott’s face of the blood. Scott holds out his hand, tears still streaming down his face, showing his dad his tooth. “Is that why there’s so much blood?” His dad sounds relieved.

“I was...running,” Scott says, in between breaths and sniffling. “And I fell and hit my leg and mouth.” He’s crying again and he can feel his dad holding him in his arms, telling him it’ll be alright. “I’m sorry, dad...I’m sorry I’m crying.”

“Don’t be sorry,” his dad says, rubbing Scott’s back. “I’m just glad you’re okay, buddy.”

“You’re not mad?” Scott closes his hand around his tooth and wipes his eyes.

“God, no.”

“But I cried and you said big boys don’t cry.”

“Did I?” His dad’s eyes fill with tears and Scott blinks twice to make sure he’s seeing it correctly. “Well maybe you shouldn’t listen to your old man,” his dad let’s out a chuckle, only it doesn’t sound happy at all. “It’s okay to cry, Scott, even I do sometimes.”

Scott watches his dad turn his head away from Scott and wipe his own eyes; he doesn’t like seeing his dad this way, and he’s only seen his dad cry once before and that was at his mother’s funeral, although he wasn’t crying in front of Scott, no he was crying alone in his room, and when Scott had walked in he had wiped his eyes immediately and stopped. So seeing his dad crying makes him feel a knot in his stomach and he throws his arms over his dad’s shoulders, squeezing as tight as he can.

“Don’t cry, daddy,” Scott says in his ear, “the Tooth Fairy is going to bring me money because of this.”

Scott’s dad lets out a chuckle and then he’s laughing, wiping his eyes from the tears and laughing with a smile plastered across his face.

“You’re right, son,” he says, rustling Scott’s hair. “And I’m sure she’s going to give you a lot since you bled so much losing it.”

Scott follows his dad into the kitchen and his dad tells him to sit down while he makes him some soup, or in other words heats up a can of Campbells Chicken Noodle Soup, Scott’s favorite kind of soup.

Scott’s lip is puffy and he can feel the difference; he keeps licking his top lip because it feels strange, like he’s just not realizing it’s there only because it’s taking up more room than usual.

And he can’t stop wiggling his tongue in the hole where the missing tooth is; the hole feels bizarre to him. Compared to the rest of his gums, the spot where his tooth was is a lot more softer? It feels like something that’s been soaked in water all day and is soggy. It’s cool though, being able to stick his tongue through it.

“Careful, it’s hot,” his dad puts the bowl in front of him and walks back to the counter, pouring another drink for himself.

Scott blows carefully on the soup and takes the spoonful to his mouth, slurping it. The salty chickeny goodness fills his mouth and makes him warm and happy inside, the way soup always makes him feel, comforting.

“Thanks, dad,” Scott says, taking another spoonful into his mouth.

After he finishes his soup, his dad finishes another glass, he goes upstairs to take his bath. Although, Scott doesn’t really see why he has to take a bath every single night, he’d be fine with skipping a night or two, he does want to go to bed early tonight so that way the Tooth Fairy can come.

His dad tucks him into bed and Scott smiles at his dad, sticking his tongue through his missing tooth hole; he gets not why Stiles always does it, it’s actually a lot of fun.

“Dad, can you read to me?” Scott yawns, stretching his arms above his head and turning to his side; his dad sits down on the edge of his bed and nods, picking out Scott’s favorite book off the nightstand next to Scott’s bed.

“Soon you’re going to know how to read and not need me,” his dad says, and Scott shakes his head.

“I’ll always want you to read this to me.”

“We’ll see about that,” his dad says, flipping the book open to the first page. “Dog. Big dog. Little dog. Big dogs and little dogs. Black and white dogs.”

Scott can already feel his eyes getting droopy as his dad’s voice fills the room, reading his favorite book. Thoughts of the Tooth Fairy fill Scott’s head and before he knows it his eyes are closed and he is fast asleep.


	3. cops and robbers and best friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles play cops and robbers and become best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope whoever reads enjoys! I've never written kids before, I know I said it before but still just wanna throw it out there! Also Zoey is editing this and thank you Zoey because wow I make a lot of mistakes!
> 
> (also i have ch 4 done ive had it done for a couple days im just waiting for it to get edited sorry!! - 3/16)

Scott runs his tongue over his toothless gap and can feel the other tooth starting to grow in, just barely; he can feel a hard spot in his gums, just pushing its way out. It’s been a week since he lost it, so he’s excited to finally start feeling something grow in instead of just the smooth gum where a tooth should be.

Scott’s on his bed, having just finished his homework, and is focused solely on playing with his tooth. The Tooth Fairy had brought him a whole two dollars, which he found underneath his pillow the next morning. He wished he could have lost all his teeth because then he would have been rich that morning, but the two dollars was enough to convince his dad to take him to Toys ‘R Us, where he begged and begged his dad into pitching in another five dollars so he could buy an orange foam football, which now has a home on the floor of his bedroom.

The doorbell rings and Scott can hear his dad kick his footrest back into the recliner and get up; his dad’s footsteps always creak throughout the house, which is good for Scott when he sometimes decides to stay up and play with his toys because he can hear his dad coming to check on him. And yeah, sure, he should be asleep because he has a bedtime but who’s to blame him every now and again when he wants to play a little later, right? He’s still respectful to his dad, and him occasionally staying up doesn’t change that. The creaking moves from the living room to the front door and Scott listens carefully.

“Scott!” his dad yells, “your friend is here!”

Scott hops out of bed, grabs his foam football off the floor and rushes out of his room, making sure not to run down the stairs; he doesn’t want another accident happening. Having to explain what happened to Mr. Hale when he asked why his mouth was so swollen was embarrassing enough; he didn’t want a repeat of that.

“Stiles!” Scott shouts happily, charging towards the front door.

“I asked your dad if you could come out and play and he said yes,” Stiles says, beaming at Scott, who raises his football in the air to show Stiles.

“Thanks, dad.” Scott gives his dad a wave as him and Stiles walk out into the front yard.

“I’ll call you in for dinner,” his dad says, and Scott nods, too excited to get to play with Stiles.

“What do you wanna do?” Scott asks, tossing the football into the air and catching it as it flies back down.

“Well,” Stiles says, hopping up and down. “We could play tag, or we could play toss with your football? Oh! We could play cops and robbers? I wanna be the cop like my dad and you can be a robber!”

“Or we could both be cops,” Scott suggests, not really wanting to be the robber. “And we could pretend that we’re the only police in the town and we have to save it from all the robbers.”

“And your front yard is the safe zone where they can’t get us and the robbers are hiding at the end of the street!”

“And the football can be a grenade in case we need it!”

“And we have to save people from the robbers at the end of the street!”

“Yeah!”

Scott holds his index finger out and makes his right hand into the shape of a pistol, Stiles following suit. Scott holds the football tight in his other hand and off they go, Scott following closely behind Stiles, ducking behind his dad’s truck and peeking out behind the tire, looking for the robbers.

“Over there!” Stiles shouts, pointing his gun finger across the street and making shooting noises with his mouth. Scott follows along as they run across the street, still pretending to shoot. “Throw the grenade, Scott, there’s too many!”

Scott throws his football as hard as he can, watching it bounce onto the grass of the house across the street and Stiles makes an explosion noise, grabbing Scott’s hand and making him duck down next to Stiles. Scott stays crouched next to Stiles, holding hands as they both stay as quiet as possible.

“Okay,” Stiles whispers, pointing down at his house. “The robbers are over there, we need to sneak up on them and save the people who are being held behind the jeep.”

Scott nods looking back at the grass, “I’m gonna go get the grenade, cover me?” Stiles nods and Scott loosens his grips on Stiles’ hand, slowly crawling towards the football. Looking back, he can see Stiles’ gun hand pointing in his direction, waving Scott on with his other hand.

Scott reaches the football and grabs it quickly, running as fast as he can back to Stiles, who is still down on his knees keeping Scott covered. There’s a pain in his chest but he’s going to ignore that for now, no reason to automatically assume it’s his asthma. It _is_ normal to get a pain in your chest after running a lot.

“Awesome!” Stiles says, sticking his hand out for Scott to high five; Scott smacks his hand into Stiles’, making a loud clap. “Alright, let’s go save the people.”

Scott has to catch his breath as quickly as possible because Stiles is on the move and Scott follows closely behind, stopping when Stiles stops, holding his breath when they stay quiet and still before moving forward. Although, holding his breath is kind of hard given the fact that he’s still out of breath, so he forces himself to breathe shallowly, not wanting to give their cover away.

They’re at the house next to Stiles’ and they’re crouching behind the lining of bushes between the two houses; Stiles at the edge of the bushes peeking his head around and Scott crouched right behind him, gun hand ready for action.

“How many?” Scott whispers, the feeling of excitement spreading through his body, making him antsy.

“I’m counting at least five,” Stiles says, turning around, face to face with Scott. “We have to be careful, Scott. If there’s too many we’re gonna have to run back to the safe zone.”

“Okay,” Scott says, and the pain is still in his chest, but since they’re standing still at the moment, it isn’t becoming an issue.

“Come on,” Stiles waves his hand forward and they start to move out of their cover behind the bushes, straight into enemy headquarters.

Scott’s gaze is everywhere, turning from side to side, keeping an eye out for any enemies that may be trying to get him and Stiles. Too busy looking around, Scott doesn’t notice that Stiles has stopped and accidently walks right into his back, bumping Stiles forward.

“Oh no!” Stiles shouts, “they saw us! Run back to the safe zone!”

Stiles is off like a lightning bolt and Scott is trying his best to catch up, but with the pain shooting in his chest and the fact that with each passing second it’s getting a little harder to breathe in properly, he’s not so sure he’s gonna make it. He slows down, putting his hands on his knees and he can’t go anymore; the pain in his chest is too much and the shortness of breath definitely means he’s on the brink of an asthma attack. I feels like something is tightening around his chest and Scott’s not liking it one bit.

“Scott, come on!” He can hear Stiles shout from across the street, probably already in the safe zone.

“I can’t,” Scott wheezes out, sitting down on the asphalt, trying his best to catch his breath. He can hear footsteps rushing up to him and Stiles is crouching down next to him now, patting Scott on the back. “Stiles, I... need my... inhaler,” he manages to say in between short breaths.

“What’s that?” Stiles asks, sitting down next to Scott, who is starting to get really worried that he’s not going to be able to catch his breath.

“Get my... dad,” Scott can feel the tears starting to come and his breathing is getting quicker. “He’ll... know what... to do.” Before he even finishes, Stiles is bolting towards his house, yelling for his dad.

“Mr.” Stiles shouts, “um, Scott’s dad!”

Scott can hear him yelling and but doesn’t look up, he’s too busy staring straight down at the ground, trying his best to steady his breathing. He hasn’t had a full blown asthma attack in a little over six months, and he knows he should have known better than to go running around without his inhaler, but he didn’t think about it. He was so wrapped up in wanting to hang out with Stiles that it didn’t dawn on him to bring it, so it’s no ones fault really, but he still feels somehow guilty.

It feels like it’s been forever and Scott’s breathing isn’t getting any better; it’s not getting worse, but he definitely needs his inhaler soon because these quick breaths accompanied by the pain in his chest, is making him want to cry, a lot.

“Scott!” He can hear his dad’s voice yelling, and can hear two sets of footsteps rushing towards him. “Scotty! Here,” his dad hands him his inhaler and he shoves it to his lips, clicking down and feeling the rush of cold air fill his lungs, already working the magic. “Do it one more time, buddy.” Scott listens and takes in another deep breath; he let’s out a cough but for the most part, the overwhelming feeling of his airways being constricted is gone.

“Thanks,” Scott says, letting out another cough, and taking in as deep of a breath as he can. “That was scary.”

“I thought one of the robbers got you!” Stiles says, standing next to Scott’s dad, who is on his knees, making them almost the same height; his dad is still taller of course.

“I think that’s enough playing outside for today,” his dad says, standing back up. “If you guys still want to play, how about we do it in the house.”

“Okay, Mr…” Stiles pauses as his eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know what your name is.”

“Mr. McCall,” Scott’s dad says, and Stiles nods.

“Mr. McCall, I just have to ask my mom if that’s okay with her.”

Before Scott’s dad can reply, Stiles is off running down the street to his house, and Scott looks back up at his dad. He can feel the pain leaving his chest and he’s able to breathe in fully, which is definitely an improvement. Scott pushes himself up with his right palm, the inhaler in his left hand, feeling the asphalt and pebbles on the ground push into his skin. Once he’s standing up, he hands his inhaler back to his dad and smiles.

“Sorry I went out without my inhaler,” he says, staring at the indents left in his palm.

“It’s okay, buddy, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Scott looks back and sees Stiles charging back towards them, a giant grin filling his face. He halts to a stop right in front of Scott and does a small jump into the air.

“My mom said it’s fine!” Stiles takes a deep breath and sticks his tongue out, panting, like Scott has seen puppies do before after running around.

They go into the house, making sure not to run, although Stiles is hopping up and down in excitement, basically skipping all the way to Scott’s house. Scott takes Stiles by his hand and they run up stairs, although, his dad does yell for them to slow down, but running up a few stairs won’t kill anyone.

“Cool room,” Stiles comments as Scott leads him in.

“Thanks,” Scott beams, tossing the football onto his unmade bed. “Do you wanna play with my legos?”

“Okay,” Stiles sits down on the carpet and starts to roll one of Scott’s hot wheels onto the floor, making engine noises.

Scott opens up his dark blue toy chest, which is underneath the window at the side of his room. He grunts as he pulls out his clear box, full to the brim with his legos. Scott puts the box down onto the floor and looks back at Stiles who is staring at the box, his eyes as wide as can be. Scott smirks because yeah, he’s got an awesome collection and he knows it.

Stiles scoots over to the box and Scott watches him as he sticks his hands into the box, moving around the legos, making all the different colors mix together; the reds, the blues, the greens, the yellows all jumbling together as Stiles’ hand whisk them around.

“How many do you have?” He asks, pulling out a handful of legos and placing them on the floor next to his feet.

“A million,” Scott says, taking a handful and sitting down next to Stiles. “What do you want to build?”

“Oh! Let’s build our classroom!”

Scott nods and he reaches into his box, pulling out more and more legos until the floor is riddled with legos galore. All the different shapes, sizes and colors scattered across the carpet as him and Stiles pick through and start building.

First and foremost, they need to build the walls of the classroom, because you can’t just have a room without walls. Scott grabs the long skinny yellow lego pieces and starts to put them next to each other, creating the square shape of the classroom. Stiles is busy making the sandbox outside of the classroom, as Scott puts the finale piece into place. Perfect.

Scott reaches into the box and pulls out the baggy that he has, full of the lego characters. Time to pick out his and Stiles’ lego man.

“Which one do you want to be?” Scott asks, pouring the bag of characters out onto the floor.

“Hmm,” Stiles bites his lower lip and starts to move the characters around, looking over them all. “This one! I want to be this one!”

Stiles is holding the police officer and Scott understands why and thinks it suits him well. Scott’s tongue sticks out at the corner of his mouth as he looks through all the characters he has, knowing he’s already played with all of these before, but something about choosing one that is going to represent him makes this choice a little more difficult.

He remembers that he has the marvel heros as lego characters and digs through the pile of lego people, seeing the one he wants and grabbing it. Spider-Man!

Stiles gasps, “that is so cool! Does that mean you get to shoot webs and fly?”

“No,” Scott says, thinking it over. “I just dressed up like him and went to school. Because I can’t shoot web in real life.”

“That would be so fun if you could!”

“I’d figure out a way to make you be able to too, that way we could both jump around and shoot web together.”

“And we’d save people and be able to just crawl up walls and stuff!”

Scott nods and they go back to building; they have the room almost completely built, using the square green legos at the seats in the class and the blue legos as the cubbies, although they only put two down for themselves.

“All we need now is Mr. Hale,” Scott says, standing up and looking down at their classroom, nodding his head in approval. “I think I know which one will be perfect for him.”

Scott goes through his pile of characters one more time and looks for his lego man, who is Gandalf, from his Hobbit lego set. Mr. Hale has a beard and so does Gandalf, and yeah sure his is a little longer and whiter, but it’s only a matter of time before Mr. Hale has an old man beard; it’s something that Scott is sure of.

Stiles starts to giggle as Scott puts Gandalf down in the front of the classroom and Scott can’t help but laugh too. The thought of Gandalf standing in front of them in school teaching them about the letters and how to sit criss cross applesauce really is a funny thought.

“It’s perfect,” Stiles says, scooting back and away from their creation, smiling.

Scott can hear his dad’s footsteps walking down the hallway and turns his gaze towards his door, watching his dad stride in, holding a plate. The smell of pizza fills Scott’s nostrils and his eyes widen in excitement; pizza is the best.

“I made you guys pizza bagels,” his dad says, putting the plate down on the floor, along with napkins. “I know I don’t usually let you eat in your room, but it’s okay for tonight, as long as you pick up all your legos.”

“I will!” Scott says, rushing over to the plate, licking his lips.

“Thank you, Mr. McCall,” Stiles says, sitting down next to Scott.

Scott splits the pizza bagels up evenly, Stiles and him both get five. They are hot, and Scott didn’t know that with his first bite and had his mouth open wide, heaving in and out as the burning hot bagel of goodness rolled around on his tongue, cooling down enough for him to swallow. Now that he knows these cheesy little treats are as hot as the oven they were cooked in, he blows on them relentlessly before taking a bite. Stiles follows suit.

They finish eating and Scott picks up the plate, putting all the napkins on it and placing it on his dresser, reminding himself to bring it down to be cleaned. His dad has always been adamant about not having food in the bedrooms because ants can find the smallest crumb and over take the room. Scott isn’t about to have his room become home to millions of tiny ants, crawling everywhere.

“This was fun,” Stiles says, smiling at Scott. “I’m glad we’re neighbors.”

“Me too,” Scott says, unable to not smile. Stiles is his friend and he’s never had a friend before, mainly because he’s too young, but also because his dad didn’t think he needed to go to preschool. “You’re my first friend.”

“You too,” Stiles says, standing up and sitting on the edge of Scott’s bed. “You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too,” Scott sits next to Stiles and can’t help but give Stiles a hug. It’s what you do to friends and family, and when Scott feels Stiles’ arms wrap around him, well he knows he’s right.

The doorbell rings as Scott and Stiles are putting the legos back in the box. The noises of all the plastic pieces colliding together is almost loud enough to drown out the doorbell, but Scott hears it and listens, hoping it’s not for Stiles to go home already.

“Stiles!” Scott hears his dad shout and there’s his answer. “Your mom’s here for you!”

Scott watches Stiles bolt out of the room and Scott scrambles to his feet to follow. Scott makes it to the bottom of the stairs and Stiles is already standing next to his mom, who has a sandy blonde haircut that is short on the sides but longer in the middle. Scott’s seen people with it before but no one has looked as good with it as Stiles’ mom does. Her smiles is shining bright and her pink button up shirt radiates in comparison to her dark blue jeans.

“Mom, this is Scott!” Stiles says, pulling at his moms arm.

“Nice to meet you, Scott,” she says, her voice is so soothing and calm.

“Hi,” Scott says, looking down at his feet shyly, and he’s not sure why he’s shy exactly, but he is. “Mrs?”

“Stilinski,” she says, turning her gaze to his dad and smiling.

“Mrs. Stilinski,” Scott says, nodding as he says it.

“Well it was nice to meet you, Scott. I’m sure I’ll see you all the time now, since you’re all that Stiles talks about.”

Scott feels his grin flash across his face and happiness rise from his feet all the way up to the tallest standing hair on his head. Stiles really is his best friend.

Scott waves them goodbye as the door closes and his toothy grin is still being displayed on his face; his dad rustles his hair and walks into the kitchen. Scott doesn’t need to follow him to know what he’s doing, so Scott goes back into his room and takes the plate off his dresser. He is not about to leave that there, especially if his dad is going to be having adult drinks.

Walking into the kitchen with the plate, Scott places it on the counter next to the sink, although placing it is more of a stretch because he goes on his tippy toes and reaches as far as he can just to make it stay on the counter. His dad is sitting at the kitchen table, the dark drink filling up half his glass.

“So that Stiles kid,” his dad says, moving the glass in circles on the table. “He seems nice.”

“He’s my best friend,” Scott says, walking over to the table and boosting himself up to the seat next to his dad. “Me and him decided that today.”

“Did you now? That’s nice. Your mom was my best friend.”

“But mommy was your wife,” Scott says, scrunching his face in confusion. “How can she be your wife and your best friend?”

“Your mom and I were lucky like that,” his dad tilts his head back and swallows the rest of his drink, grinding his teeth together and taking in a quick breath.

“So you can marry your best friend?” Scott asks, watching his dad get up and pour himself some more. And really, after one cup of juice Scott isn’t thirsty anymore so how can his dad have cup after cup of his adult drink and still be thirsty?

“Well, if your best friend is a girl, then yes.” His dad sits back down at the table, sipping on his drink.

“Why does my best friend have to be a girl?”

“Your best friend doesn’t, Scott, just who you marry does.”

“Oh,” Scott doesn’t really understand, but he doesn’t want to ask anymore questions. He’s found that asking too many questions usually just leads to his dad getting frustrated.

“I miss her,” his dad says quietly, staring down at the ring on his finger.

“Me too,” Scott says, biting at his bottom lip.

“You have her eyes, you know. Everytime I look at you I see her.” His dad wipes at his eyes and sniffles, taking another swig of his drink. “But enough of that. Let’s watch a movie, yeah?”

“Okay, let’s watch The Land Before Time.”

Scott sits on the couch and his dad puts the movie in, sitting on the recliner. The Land Before Time is Scott’s favorite movie for a few reasons. First, it has talking dinosaurs and what could be better? Second, Littlefoot reminds Scott of himself, always ready for an adventure. And the fact that there are talking dinosaurs on adventures is the real selling point. Scott’s watched the newer ones all the time but he hasn’t seen the first one in forever, in fact he can’t even remember the last time he’s watched it, so first one it is.

The movie starts and Scott’s watching intently, moving to get comfy as his dad gets up about half way through to refill his drink; Scott whines when his dad steps in front of the screen and he just moves out quickly, holding out his hand as an apology. Scott doesn’t even realize that the movies almost over but then it happens, the scene that he completely forgot about. Littlefoot's mom dies, and it isn’t a quick scene or anything, no Littlefoot is crying next to his mom and she’s dead.

Scott starts to cry, he can’t help it; maybe it wasn’t the best choice to watch this movie, and he can tell by the look on his dad’s face it definitely wasn’t. His dad’s lips are pursed and he keeps blinking really quickly until he gets up and goes into the kitchen; yeah not a good idea. His dad doesn’t come back into the living room and Scott goes up the dvd player once the movie is over and hit the off switch, wondering if he should even go into the kitchen.

“Sorry, Scotty,” his dad’s voice fills the void. “It made me think of your mom and I couldn’t do it.” Scott can’t hear what he’s saying next because it’s more of a whisper but he walks into the kitchen and his dad’s eyes are red and puffy. “Next time let’s watch something that doesn’t have death in it?”

“Deal,” Scott smiles and hugs his dad’s leg because hugs make people feel better and he can tell his dad needs one.

“I think it’s time for bed,” his dad says, and when he walks forward it isn’t in a straight line. “You have school in the morning.”

“Daddy,” Scott says, “tomorrow is saturday.”

“Oh. Well, if you want to stay up and play that’s fine, just pick up your toys when you’re done. I’ll come say goodnight in a little.”

Scott goes up to his room and doesn’t really want to play; he sits down on his bed and imagines his mom coming into his room, wrapping him up in her arms and kissing his cheeks, tickling him like she used to. Imagines her telling him to lie still as the tickle bug crawls up his leg, and him trying his hardest not to laugh, because if he laughs he loses.

He goes into his closet and pulls out an old shoebox that his dad gave to him after his mom died to keep some of her things. Scott opens it up and pulls out a small picture frame with a photo of his mom holding him in her arms after he was born, a beaming smile on her face as she looks down at him. His thumb rubs over him mom in the picture and he holds it to his heart.

Putting the picture back in the shoebox, Scott pulls out another picture. This one is of his mom, his dad and himself together when he was only two years old. It’s christmas time and he’s wearing a red onesie with reindeer antlers on his head while he sits on both his parents knees as they sit next to each other smiling.

“I love you, mommy,” Scott says, putting the picture back into the shoebox, closing the top and placing it back in the corner of his closet.

Lying back on his bed, Scott tosses his football up into the air, watching it spiral as it comes down, catching it and repeating. Sure he can go to bed, but it’s the weekend and his dad said he can stay up so he’s going to take advantage of it. He keeps tossing the football into the air and can hear his dad downstairs, the kitchen cabinets slamming, him shuffling into the living room, and back to the kitchen. A cycle.

Scott doesn’t know how long he’s been throwing the football but a yawn finds its way into his mouth and his eyes start to get heavy, making the tossing of the football stop. He changes into his pajamas and lets out another long yawn; bedtime.

“Daddy,” Scott calls from the top of the stairs. “I’m sleepy. Can you put me to bed?”

“Yeah,” his dad calls, “just give me a second.” His speech is slower and he slurred the last part of that sentence; Scott can hear him push the kitchen chair back, screeching on the tile and can hear his dad hit the table, letting out a few cuss words as he stumbles up the stairs.

Scott crawls into bed and watches his dad as he walks, or better yet, attempt to walk to Scott’s bed. His dad’s eyes are red and droopy and he keeps mumbling to himself as he makes his way from the door frame to Scott’s bed.

Scott’s dad lets out a wail as he steps down a few steps away from his bed and Scott bolts up looking to see what’s wrong.

“A lego! A fucking lego?” His dad yells, kicking the small plastic piece out of his way. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you to pick up your toys! Huh?!” Scott lies back against his pillow, sinking into it. “Answer me!”

“I thought I did,” Scott can feel his voice shaking in his throat.

“Well obviously you didn’t! I don’t even know why I bother. I try and try to be a good father and what do I get in return? An ungrateful child who can’t even clean up his room. All I fucking asked was to pick up your toys, that’s it. That’s not asking too much. No Rafa, you’re not asking for too much. Thank you.”

Scott doesn’t dare say anything.

“But maybe that’s what you want. You want me to step on something so that I fall and hurt myself.”

“No!” Scott shouts, unable to stop himself. The last thing he wants is his dad getting hurt, why would his dad think otherwise? “I don’t want you to get hurt, daddy!”

His dad storms forward, grabbing Scott roughly by his shoulders. “Then why the _fuck_ can’t you listen to me, huh?” His dad’s grip is getting tighter on his shoulders and Scott winces at the pain of it. “Why not, huh?!” The grip tightens and his dad is shaking him now, roughly.

“Daddy!” Scott shouts as his dad keeps shaking him and yelling. “You’re hurting me!”

“Oh,” his dad says and stops shaking him. “I’m sorry. Do you not think I got hurt? Not just with the fucking lego but with your mom. You’re the fucking reason she’s dead.”

Scott can feel his face dissolve in on itself as the warm tears start to flood down his cheeks; he can hear himself crying, can feel the tears and can feel his dad’s grip leave his shoulders. He’s gasping for air and he doesn’t know why his dad would say that, or why his dad thinks he wants to hurt him and he doesn’t understand anything. All he does understand is that he’s crying and the pain of what his dad just said outweighs any of the pain throbbing in his shoulders.

“Scott,” his dad says, voice low and Scott doesn’t look, just keeps his eyes closed as he sobs. “Scotty, I’m sorry. I didn’t...I didn’t mean it, okay? I love you.”

Scott smashes his face into his pillow and keeps wailing; he can feel his dad’s hands on his shoulders, only this time rubbing them gently, telling him he’s sorry and he doesn’t mean it. But why would someone ever say something they don’t mean?

“Scott, would you look at me, please.”

“No,” Scott says into the pillow, finally able to catch his breath.

“Scott, please. I didn’t mean it.”

“Then why would you say it.”

“Adults do stupid things sometimes.” Scott peeks out of the pillow and can see that his dad’s wiping his eyes of tears. “We don’t think about what we’re saying.”

“Well you should,” Scott looks out from the pillow and into his dad’s eyes.

“You’re absolutely right, Scott. I’m sorry. Can you accept my apology?”

“Yeah,” Scott wipes his nose and sits up against his backboard. “I’m sorry about the legos. I thought I picked them all up.”

His dad pulls him in for a hug and rubs his back, holding him in his arms and not letting go, even when Scott pulls away a little. And okay, yeah, it feels nice to have his dad hugging him after it all, and maybe, yeah, he ends up hugging his dad back, burying his face in his shoulder.

Scott’s dad doesn’t let go for a while, telling Scott every so often how much he loves him, and it feels nice. Scott does feel better. His shoulders are still stinging and his eyes still burn from crying, but he doesn’t feel like his stomach is in his throat or that his dad hates him, and that’s better.

“Goodnight, Scotty.” His dad says, standing at the door frame after tucking Scott in. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So listen, the next chapter is gonna be all fluff, because I think we can all use just a cute ass chapter full of Scott and Stiles being best friends! :')


	4. scary movie sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles invites Scott over for a sleepover which means building a fort and sneaking a scary movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is unedited!! Zoey is gonna edit it tomorrow I just wanna update it because I don't want whoever is reading this to think I've given up on it since I've written like a few other fics this week! Anyways hope you all enjoy it and if there are mistakes sorry!!

Scott’s walking side by side with his dad, holding his hand as they cross the street. The sky is a vibrant orange as the sun is setting down over the mountains, looking like a painting to Scott. It’s kind of cold, but not freezing. Scott has on a sweater and jeans as they make it to the school.

A white banner is hanging high above the entrance into the quad by his classroom saying “Back To School Night” in bright red ink, accompanied by a big yellow smiling sun. 

Scott feels his dad’s hand rest on his shoulder and he winces, the pain from the bruises are still there. Sure, they aren’t as dark purple as they were the day after, but they still send shocks of pain through Scott’s body. Going to school the past week was difficult because Scott’s backpack straps would land directly on the bruises and the weight of his backpack made it even worse.

The bruises now are more of a light purple with a green outlining; and Scott can see the outlining of his dad’s giant finger marks indented on his skin. The pain is becoming less of a nuisance and his dad has been especially nice to him lately, making him breakfast every morning, playing catch with him, playing legos with him and even reading him to bed every night. It’s been nice, and even though Scott can figure out that he’s trying to make up for hurting him, he’s still happy with it.

Maybe he should be a little more mad, not talk to his dad, but really what is that going to accomplish? Ignoring his dad won’t make him feel any better and he doesn’t want to purposefully hurt his dad, not that he wants to hurt his dad ever, but if he can make his dad happy to be around him, then that’s what he’s going to do.

“You’re teachers gonna have nothing but good to say about you, right Scotty?” his dad says, as they walk into the quad. 

“Yup,” Scott beams, seeing Mr. Hale standing at the entrance of the door. “Hi, Mr. Hale!”

Mr. Hale waves to Scott as they walk over, his white toothed smiles welcoming everyone into his classroom. Mr. Hale always dresses so nice; Scott notices that he usually has on a buttoned up shirt, sometimes accompanied by a tie, other times with a sweater that Scott associates with intelligence. 

He had asked Mr. Hale earlier last week what kind of sweater it was and Mr. Hale said it was called “argyle.” Scott made sure to remember that because for Christmas he’s going to ask for it. 

Tonight, Mr. Hale had on black slacks with nice shiny shoes that came together at the end like a point, along with a white button up shirt and a bowtie; Scott really likes the way Mr. Hale dresses and when he grows up he wants to wear outfits like that, outfits that look nice but also make him look smart.

“Scott, how are you?” Mr. Hale says, nodding at Scott’s dad. “Mr. McCall.”

“I’m great,” Scott smiles, “how are you?”

“Well I am doing really well,” Mr. Hale says, “go on in and show your dad your seat and show him around the room I’ll be in soon to talk.”

Scott feels Mr. Hales hand come down and pat his shoulder, causing him to shudder and wince at the pain. Scott can see Mr. Hale’s eyebrows furrow and he pulls his hand away quickly, a smile crooking up his face, but Scott has seen Mr. Hale grin, he does it all the time, and this smile looks forced, fake.

When he walks into the classroom, he can see Stiles showing his dad where he sits, and Scott pulls his dad by his finger across the room, and right to Stiles. 

“Me and Stiles sit next to each other,” Scott says, not really to anyone in particular, just wanting to let that be known. 

“Hey, Scott,” Stiles says, smiling, “it’s weird being here at night.”

“I know!” Scott exclaims, “Hi, Mr. Stilinski.”

“Hey, Scott,” Mr. Stilinksi says, and shakes hands with Scott’s dad. “How you been Rafa?” 

Scott’s a little puzzled as to how Stiles’ dad knows his dad’s name but he shakes it off and follows Stiles away from their talking fathers to their cubbies. Stiles digs into his and pulls out his school folder, flipping it open and looking through tons of papers, and Scott’s not even sure how he has so many since they haven’t even had that many homework assignments.

“I like to draw,” Stiles says, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he kept looking. “Here we go!” Scott watches him swipe a paper from out of the mess of others and he puts it behind his back.

“What is it?” Scott asks, wanting to know why Stiles is hiding it, and why he isn’t showing him right away. “Is it a secret?”

“Close your eyes,” Stiles says, and there’s a smile lit up on his face so Scott closes them as tight as he can, scrunching his face up and automatically putting his hands out in front of him, wiggling his fingers in excitement. “Okay, so I drew this.”

Scott feels a paper placed into his hands and he makes sure not to close his hands tightly around it, definitely don’t want to crinkle Stiles’ drawing. Scott still has his eyes closed and he’s bouncing on his feet in excitement, not sure if he can open his eyes yet.

“You can look!” Stiles laughs, and Scott opens his eyes quickly looking down.

The paper has two people on it, one is wearing a blue shirt and one is wearing a red shirt, both the people are boys because neither of them have a dress on, and Scott can see that one of them has no hair and the other has black hair on his head. There’s a sun in the corner shining and the one with the dark hair is holding an orange type circular thing, and they’re standing together smiling, on top of grass. 

“It’s me and you!” Stiles exclaims, and Scott can see it now, and knows exactly what they’re doing in the picture.

“Cops and robbers!” Scott shouts, and feels a smile filling his face, “this is awesome!”

“I know, right! I made you have blue and me have red because that’s the colors of Spider-Man and since we both love him we’re wearing his colors.”

“It’s so cool! Is it mine?” Scott asks, not sure if Stiles is just showing him it or giving it to him.

“Yeah! I drew it for you,” Stiles says, and Scott pulls him in for a hug, still making sure not to crinkle the drawing.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!” Stiles puts his folder back into his cubby and turns to Scott, “so I asked my dad if we could have a sleepover and he said yes!”

“I’ve never had a sleepover,” Scott says, feeling excitement bubbling up at the thought of staying up late and playing. “When can we have it?”

“Tonight! If you’re dad says okay,” Stiles says, hopping in place.

“Let’s go ask!”

Scott charges across the classroom and halts to a stop in front of his dad and Mr. Stilinski who are in the middle of a conversation, and he knows it’s rude to interrupt but this is important.

“Dad! Dad! Can I sleepover at Stiles’ house?” Scott blurts out, and sees both his dad and Mr. Stilinski turn to look at him. “Mr. Stilinski said I could if you say yes! Can I, please?”

“Please, Mr. McCall,” Stiles chimes in, cupping his hands together, begging alongside Scott.

“Well, I…” his dad begins but is cut off, by Mr. Hale who is now in front of the classroom calling everyone’s attention forward. 

Scott watches Mr. Stilinski lean in and whisper in his dad’s ear and he really hopes that Mr. Stilinski is convincing him to let him go. They go quiet and stand still, Scott nudging Scott with his elbow and Stiles nudging him back, both grinning at each other.

“Hello parents once again,” Mr. Hale says, “nice to see you all again. Although, I see most of you everyday in passing, but it’s nice to be able to have conversations with you, talk about how your kids are doing in class. This class has been a really fun to teach so far and I’m looking forward to the rest of the year. Do any of you have any question for me to start off?”

“Well on the first day you said you wanted feedback,” a parent says towards the front of the classroom, the parent of the redhead girl who had the carpet fabric in her hair. “Well my daughter, Lydia, has had nothing but good to say about you and is really enjoying coming to class and learning.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it,” Mr. Hale says, his eyes crinkling from his wide grin. “Lydia is a great student, all of them are. I can honestly say every kid in this class is a joy to teach.”

The night goes on like this, some parents speaking up on issues they have, or simply questions that they need clarifying, and Mr. Hale answers each one with a smile, making sure to explain everything he can to anyone who has a question. He shows the parents their homework assignments of their family’s hung all around the room and has the kids show their parents them; Scott shows his dad but isn’t as excited as the other kids, how can he when all he thinks about when looking at that picture is how mad his dad got at him. But his dad acts like he’s never seen it before and Scott half smiles as his dad talks about how good his picture looks because no matter what his dad says he still sees him mad at Scott for drawing him with a drink.

The night comes to a close and Mr. Hale stays in the front talking to parents as they come up to personally greet them, Scott’s dad doesn’t so Scott follows him out to the quad, and they wait there for Stiles and Mr. Stilinski, who waited to talk to Mr. Hale.

“So,” his dad says, looking down at Scott, “a sleepover?”

“Yeah!” Scott exclaims, “can I please go, dad? I promise I’ll be good over there.”

“I know that, it’s just, well, you’re growing up right before my eyes, Scotty. First sleepovers and then high school and then you’ll be moving out.”

“Dad,” Scott says, “it’s just a sleepover.”

“It’s your first sleepover,” his dad corrects him. “But, yes, you can go.” Scott jumps up and down in excitement, wanting to run back into the classroom and tell Stiles the good news. “On one condition,” and Scott nods, listening carefully. “You give me a big hug.”

Scott can do that, no problem. His arms fling out in front of him and he feels his dad’s embrace, warm and familiar and he feels happy, safe. They walk home with Stiles and his dad and when Scott gets home he rushes up to his room ready to bring things for the sleepover. 

His dad is helping him, making sure he doesn’t forget his tooth brush, his pajamas, clothes for tomorrow, a pillow and a blanket. Scott feels like he’s moving out with the big duffle bag he now has filled to the brim. His dad doesn’t say much but he has this look on his face, like he’s sad and Scott doesn’t want his dad to be sad, not ever.

“Daddy,” Scott says, sitting down on the edge of his bed, his dad sitting next to him. “Are you sad?”

“What? No,” his dad says, and then gives Scott a smirk, making Scott feel a little better. “I just want to make sure you have everything, it’s going to be the first time you’re away from me over night.” Scott nods and thinks he might understand why his dad is sad, or at least looks sad, but it’s just one night, not like he’s moving out, that’d be silly. “You know the house phone number by heart, right?”

“Yeah,” Scott smiles, closing his eyes and reciting it to his dad, which he is rewarded with a bear hug. “I memorized if after mommy went to heaven in case I had to call you at work.”

“Yeah, work,” his dad’s gaze drops and he shakes his head, “back when I had a job.”

“Daddy, don’t be silly,” Scott pats him on the back. “You do have a job. You’re un-in-ployed and take care of me, duh!”

Scott watches his dad’s face closely and can see his dad’s eyes starting to sparkle and he swipes his hand across them quickly, grabbing Scott and sitting him on his lap; Scott’s not really sure if his dad is crying or if he’s happy, it’s kind of confusing when someone looks like they might cry but pulls you closer.

“You’re a great kid, you know that?” Scott feels his dad’s hand run through his hair and Scott leans into him, resting his head on his dad’s chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, daddy,” Scott pats his dad’s shoulder, leans up and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, so are you ready to go have your first sleepover?” His dad’s voice is excited now, and he bounces his leg up and down to make Scott bounce, and he’s giggling wildly as he bounces.

They double check everything one more time and when Scott is certain he has everything he can possibly need for one night of sleeping, his dad walks him over to the Stilinski’s house. Scott runs up the driveway to the front door and rings the doorbell before his dad can catch up to him.

Mr. Stilinski opens up the door and Stiles bulldozes through his legs and is hopping up and down talking really fast and pulling Scott by the arm to come inside. Scott gives his dad one last hug and his dad holds him, rubbing his back and telling him to call him for anything, Scott nods and is running into the house behind Stiles, holding his hand.

“Okay! So first let’s put your stuff in my room!” Stiles exclaims, and Scott follows him through the house. 

When they first came in there was a staircase that went straight up to the second story, the rug is white and everything is so clean. The living room is the first room in the house, with a big screen tv in the corner, straight across from the couch. There’s a fireplace at the wall, with red bricks and pictures on top of the mantle. Scott wants to look at the pictures and see if they have wedding pictures up also, but he can do that later.

Stiles’ room is on the first story and Scott knows it’s Stiles’ room before they go in because there’s a wall decal of Spider-Man across the white door. Awesome! Stiles opens up the door and Scott follows him in, looking around with wide eyes and his mouth dropped open.

“You have a car shaped bed!” Scott shouts, rushing over and sitting on it, bouncing himself up and down. “That is so cool! And you have a tv! In your room!”

“Yeah! I get to watch movies on it! We can watch a movie tonight!” Stiles hops up on the bed and starts to jump up and down; Scott follows his lead and stands up on the bed, jumping along with him, giggling and smiling.

“This is gonna be so much fun!” Scott and Stiles bounce for a while and then sit down on the bed, panting as they catch their breath. “What movie do you wanna watch?”

“Well,” Stiles is whispering now, and Scott leans in close, ready for the secret, because people only whisper when they’re telling a secret. “We can watch a scary movie, if you want?”

“I’ve never seen a scary movie,” Scott admits, and he’s not sure if he’s excited because it’ll be his first scary movie, or if he is actually kind of scared by the idea.

“I have,” Stiles says, a triumphant looking smile across his face. “They’re not that scary I promise. We can watch it tonight, after,” and Stiles pauses, jumping back up to his feet and bouncing, “we build a fort!”

Before they can starts Stiles’ mom pops her head in and tells them that dinner is ready, and Stiles books it to the kitchen, Scott follows and sits next to him at the dinner table. There are already plates ready and Scott can see that he and Stiles have dinosaur chicken nuggets and mac ‘n cheese. Best dinner ever!

“Thank you for the food,” Scott says, turning from Mr. Stilinski to Mrs. Stilinksi.

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Mrs. Stilinski says, grinning at him.

Scott can see that Mr. Stilinski has a dark drink in his cup and he has to ask, “is that an adult drink?”

“Umm,” Mr. Stilinski purses his lips and squints, looking over to Mrs. Stilinski, she does some type of nod and he looks back, nodding to Scott. “Yeah, I guess you can say that. I only have a glass at dinner.”

“Oh,” Scott says, trying to cut the head off the t-rex off with his fork, “my dad drinks adult drinks all day.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Stilinski says as she cuts Stiles’ food for him. “Well, hey Scott, do you want me to cut your food for you also?”

“Yes please!”

Mrs. Stilinski cuts all his chicken nuggets up into bite size pieces and she asks him if he wants ketchup, he nods and dips his nuggets in the ketchup, eating all the food on his plate. He thanks them again for dinner and him and Stiles run back into the room as Mrs. Stilinski starts to clear off the table and go to do dishes.

 

Once they’re back in Stiles’ room they sit down lazily for a while, and that’s when Stiles jumps up excitedly to remind Scott that they still need to build the fort.

They go to work almost immediately, Stiles grabbing the blankets off of his bed, Scott taking the blanket he brought from home and making a pile; next they’re going to need something to put the blankets on to make the fort. Scott follows Stiles out of his room and to the kitchen and Stiles grabs one of the chairs and just takes it with him, his dad smiling as he does it. Scott can’t believe he didn’t ask before, but he’s not going to question it. 

Scott grabs the other side of the chair and they lift it across the floor and into Stiles’ room putting it at one corner of the end of his bed; Stiles says they need one more chair and they go and grab another one, putting it at the other corner. 

“Okay,” Stiles says, rubbing his hands together. “Now we need to hang the blankets from the tops of the chairs onto my bed, that way it hangs over like a tent.”

“Good idea!” Scott grabs his blanket out of the pile and stands on Stiles’ bed, draping the blanket over the chair and onto the bed; it takes them a few tries with everything but eventually they have a fort, with an opening in the middle for the perfect view of the tv. Stiles brings his pillow and puts it in the fort, Scott follows suit.

“I can’t sleep without it,” Stiles says, hugging the pillow to his chest. 

“It’s a nice pillow,” Scott smiles, and Stiles grins back at him, nodding. “If you ever sleep over my house I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”

“Thanks,” Stiles puts the pillow down and then scrunches his face, “Scott! We don’t have blankets to sleep in now! How are we going to sleep in the fort without blankets?”

“Oh my gosh,” Scott hits his hand to his forehead, not even realizing that small detail. “Do you have any blankets in your closet?” 

“Mom!” Stiles shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling again. “Mom!”

“Yes, Stiles,” she says, walking into the room and Scott giggles because she huffs after saying his name. “What could you possibly need that you couldn’t walk a few feet into the living room and ask me?”

“Mom,” Stiles sighs, sticking his tongue out at her. “So we made this really cool fort and used all our blankets,” he whines the next part, saying every word drawn out and dramatically, and Scott covers his mouth to keep from laughing. “Mom, we need more blankets!”

“Stiles, please stop being overly dramatic,” she squats down and looks inside the fort, flashing them both a smile. “Pretty cool fort. I’ll go get you some blankets, and next time Stiles, just walk over and ask me.”

“Okay!” As she walks out Stiles turns to Scott and grins from ear to ear, giggling. “I always yell her name, it’s funny.”

His mom brings them blankets and they fill the floor of their fort with them, making room so that they can sleep later on. Stiles’ pillow is right next to Scott’s and Scott touches it with his hand, wanting to see if it’s softer or more fluffy than his pillow, but it feels the same. Kind of makes him wonder why Stiles loves it so much, but he’s not going to ask, just let Stiles have his special pillow because it makes him happy.

They play a game where they pretend the floor is lava and they try their best to get from the fort to the bed, which is the safe house, but keep falling into the lava. They giggle and shout and jump, but no matter how hard they try one of them always ends up in the lava, and they start over again. It’s so much fun, Scott can’t stop laughing and Stiles and him are so close to the bed, both standing on books that they threw onto the floor to step on;. they hold each other’s hands together and count to three, before they both hop over the lava and land on the bed. Shouting and cheering, happy they finally made it.

Stiles’ dad knocks on the door and comes in, letting them know that him and Mrs. Stilinski are going to go to bed so if Scott and Stiles can try and keep it down; they both nod and Scott puts his finger to his lips, to show Stiles’ dad he understand.

Mr. Stilinski gives Stiles a big hug and a kiss and tells him goodnight; when he comes over to Scott and tells him goodnight, Scott holds out his arms and Mr. Stilinski gives him a hug also, smiling as he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Scott,” Stiles says, his voice serious as can be. Scott turns his gaze and nods, not knowing why Stiles’ face is so still. “Do you know what this means?”

“What, what means?” Scott asks, not understanding what Stiles is talking about.

“Time for a scary movie!” He jumps forward and grabs Scott’s shoulders, making a monster noise as he pushes Scott down on the bed, tickling him. Scott tries his best to be quiet but he blurts out laughter and kicks his legs as Stiles crawls over and keep up with his tickle torture. 

“Stop,” Scott says, in between laughing, and Stiles does, which Scott appreciates. “Thanks for listening.”

Stiles pulls away and frowns, “why wouldn’t I listen?”

“I just mean, you stopped when I said stop.”

“Well, duh! Stop means stop,” Stiles scrunches his face up and laughs. “Who doesn’t stop when you ask them to stop?”

“Sometimes my dad,” Scott says, sits up and sighs, “he just gets mad sometimes and doesn’t stop when I ask him to.”

“Huh, grown ups can be weird.”

“Yeah.”

“So you wanna watch a scary movie now?” 

Scott nods and Stiles hops off the bed, tiptoeing over to where his tv is, and pulling out a move case, which Scott can see and recognizes as the cover to The Lion King.

“That’s not a scary movie,” Scott points out, laughing. 

“Oh yeah?” Stiles says, sticking his tongue out, rushing back over and opening up the case, and Scott looks at the dvd, and it definitely isn’t The Lion King. There are dark red claw marks going down the disc and bright red eyes glaring. “It’s a scary movie about werewolves!” 

“Oh,” Scott gasps, and then realizes what Stiles has done. Hide the scary movie in a non-scary movie box. That’s smart. 

“Let’s watch it!”

Scott goes into the fort, putting a blanket up to his knees, holding his face on his knees, as Stiles gets the movie set up. Stiles turns off the lights and gets into the fort, sitting next to Scott and hugging his pillow close.

The movie starts with a red flash and a howl, Scott cowers into his blanket and looks over at Stiles, whose eyes are wide, looking straight at the screen. 

It’s only a few minutes into the movie and a big hairy monster looking man ran after a man in the woods and killed him; Scott doesn’t want to be a baby in front of Stiles, but it really scared him. Luckily, it made Stiles’ jump too, so he didn’t feel too bad about being scared.

The movie goes on and with each passing minute, each pop up scene, and each bloody death Scott is squinting, trying his best to keep his eyes open. When he finally looks over at Stiles, who he thought must have been watching the movie without any fear, he sees Stiles’ face buried in his pillow, not even looking.

Scott doesn’t feel bad anymore; he covers his face whenever he get’s scared and by the end of the movie, him and Stiles are holding onto each other, too afraid to get out of the fort to shut it off. When the movie finally ends, and the credits roll, the room is dark, too dark.

Scott can hear Stiles’ breathing, heavy and Scott’s eyes are wide as he looks around, every shadow is making him scared.

“Stiles,” Scott whispers, and feels Stiles’ arm grip onto his. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” Stiles says, moving even closer to Scott. They’re both huddled close to each other and Scott feels somehow safe with Stiles right next to him.

“Want me to run over and turn on the lights?”

“Yes please!” Stiles basically shouts, and pulls Scott close giving him a hug. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Scott hugs him back, and crawls towards the space in the fort, feeling Stiles’ hand grip his foot and Scott almost screams out in fear. “Stiles,” he says quickly, “you scared me.”

“Sorry,” Stiles whispers, “don’t try and scare me, okay.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise.”

“I promise,” Scott leans back in and gives Stiles one more hug. “I’m gonna run over to the light switch and run back.”

“Okay.”

Scott takes one more deep breath, and he’s terrified, he can feel his heart pounding against his chest, but he wants to be brave for Stiles. He nods to himself and charges for the light switch, hitting his foot against something and falling; feeling terror overflow his body, he can’t help it, he starts to cry.

“Scott!” Stiles shouts, and Scott can hear him rustle out of the fort, and then the lights are on and Stiles is by his side. “Scott are you okay?”

Scott wipes his eyes and looks down at his foot, realizing he tripped on one of the books that they had thrown on the floor earlier. His lip is pouting and Stiles sits down next to him and gives him a hug. Scott can still feel tears falling and when he looks over Stiles has tears in his eyes too.

“Why are you crying?” Scott asks, wiping his eyes and catching his breath.

“I thought something got you,” Stiles says, his face scrunching up and then they’re both crying.

The bedroom door flings open and Scott feels his heart leap out of his chest, screaming at the top of his lungs; Stiles wailing along with him, holding onto each other.

“Boys,” Mrs. Stilinski says, kneeling down on the floor and pulling them both into her embrace. “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

Scott buries his head in her shoulder and cries, while Stiles tells his mom that they watched a scary movie, Scott not wanting to look up in case she gets mad.

“Oh, well that explains it.” She sits down, criss cross applesauce with them both sitting on each one of her knees. “Let me tell you boys something,” and Scott looks up at her doe eyed, because she’s being so nice and caring, just like his mom used to be. Maybe it’s a mom thing? “I watched a scary movie when I was younger and it made me so afraid of the dark. But you know what?”

“What?” Scott says, wiping his eyes.

“It’s not real.” She smiles down at both of them and Scott can feel the feeling of terror leaving himself. “They spend so much time and energy to make it look scary but in reality, it’s a man dressed in a green suit running around making silly growling noises. They just add in all the other stuff after and make it look scary. Trust me, it’s not.”

“But mom,” Stiles says, sniffling, “it looks real.”

“So do art pictures,” his mom says, “but they’re just drawn up pictures. So what do you guys say you go back into your fort and get some sleep, it’s midnight and I don’t want Scott’s dad thinking we let you stay up all night watching scary movies.”

“Can we leave the light on?” Stiles asks, and Scott nods immediately, because even though what she said did make him feel better, he still is a little scared of the dark.

“Yes. Now give me hugs and then go to bed.”

Scott and Stiles both hug her at the same time and she makes a grunt as she squeezes them tightly, Scott not wanting to let go. 

They crawl back into the fort and Mrs. Stilinski says goodnight one more time before shutting the door. 

“Can we sleep in the same blanket?” Stiles asks, grabbing his pillow and pulling it close to him. “I’m still a little scared.”

“Me too,” Scott admits.

They fall asleep side by side underneath a big blanket. It takes them a while to settle down and Stiles tells Scott he’s happy he’s okay and Scott is too.

“Goodnight, Scott.”

“Goodnight, Stiles.”


End file.
